The Crow: Poetic Tears
by Curtis Ziler
Summary: Aiden Ryder is a 23 year old poet without a violent bone in his body. However, after he and his one true love are both brutally murdered, The Crow chooses to bring him back. This turns him into a walking nightmare for their killer, so that he may set things things right. Rated M, for language and disturbing violence. (Update coming in a couple days.)


Chapter One

Happy Halloween

"I Listen to the Crow as it sings to the dead, guiding me through the darkness of night.

Though my heart has stopped beating. Love, keeps it warm with the meaning, To reach you again.

You are my light."

I can't help but smile as the crowd begins snapping, with applause. Though I'm glad that they enjoyed my work, what makes me happy is that they're really applauding my inspiration. And there she is, sitting the crowd, watching me with that beautiful smile on her face that can brighten anyone's day. Her shoulder length, platinum blonde hair, shines underneath the coffee house's dimmed lights. The slight paleness of her soft skin only adds to her beauty. Making her big, hazel colored eyes, stick out like fireflies in the pitch black night. And the fact that she only stands 5'4 makes her incredibly adorable. She's everything to me. My heart, my light, my happiness...my Layla.

After thanking the crowd for their applause, I casually walked between the tables, making my way to hers. Her eyes watch me the entire way, and her smile only gets bigger as I get closer. She speaks as I'm sitting down. "So, how did it feel?" She grabs my hand and begins shaking it with excitement. "You finally revealed your work to the world!" The sound of her happiness forces another smile on my face. "It was ok." I said, with a laugh.

"Just ok!?" She said, before punching me in the arm. "You love writing poems, and people liked it I told you they would! Oh come on, you had to have had at least a little fun." She leans back in her chair, staring me down while squinting her eyes, determined to read me. "Yeah, you're glowing. You're totally glowing. I can see it." I laugh once more before responding. "Ok. Ok...it was a little fun." Her smile slowly widens to its full grin. "...I knew it." She picks up her cup, taking a sip of her coffee. Most likely Cinnamon roll flavored, her favorite. "Careful, babe. You drink anymore coffee and you won't be able to sleep tonight." I said, with a chuckle. Her expression quickly takes a turn for the worst. I already know what's coming next.

"I, um...I'm not going to be able to come over tonight, Aiden. My schedule got changed and I have to work." Her job. The constant speed bump our relationship seems to hit, on a daily basis. Things would be different if she wasn't an exotic dancer. I honestly can't stand the thought of her stripping for money. Makes it hard to sleep, knowing that the person love has a job that requires her to give lap dances every night...and the fact that her boss is a piece of shit only makes it worse.

"Oh..." is all I can say. My good mood has officially been shit ruined. It was nice while it lasted. "What time?" I ask, hoping that we can at least fit one horror movie in before she has to leave. She sighs with a look of sadness, before answering with almost a whisper. "An hour..." Of course. "I'm sorry, Aiden…but if I don't go in, Abbey will."

"Abbey doesn't have a stalker though, Layla. I know you hate her working there, because you're worried that she's sleeping with customers for money, but you're not your mother. If your sister wants to be a whore, that's not your fucking problem!" My voice catches the attention of everyone else in the Coffee house. Though I feel their eyes staring at me, my anger has quickly gotten high enough for me not to care. I've been holding this in long enough.

"Aiden...Stop." Tears are already forming around her eyes. The fact that she's never seen me act like this scares her. "NO, LAYLA! Your sister can make her own, damn, decisions! You don't know what it feels like for me to stay awake all night, not knowing if you'll make it home ok because some customer is obsessed with you!" My eyes begin to tear up. I'm honestly not very good at yelling at her...

"It's not fucking fair to me, Layla. Far from it." Before she has a chance to reply, I turn and storm out the front door with tears sliding down my face. It doesn't take long for me to get a taxi. They're everywhere in New York. The driver looks in the rear view mirror while asking where I want to go. Though he obviously sees that I've been crying, he doesn't bring it up. I give him my address and he begins his drive.

Part of me wonders what he's thinking. Of all the people in New York, he picks up some 23 year old guy who looks like one of those lean pretty boys you would see in a men's hairstyle book, at Great clips. The spiked up bangs that goes great with dark hair, and a crying face. Pathetic.

Two hours later...

As I sit on my couch in my apartment, I can't stop thinking about my fight with Layla. What am I saying, you can't even call it a fight...I was just me, yelling and embarrassing her in front of the entire coffee shop. Right after I had just read my poem about how I feel about her. She didn't deserve that heartache...Especially after all the amazing things she does to help people. Working at a job she hates more than anything, just to watch out for her sister. And doing everything she can, just to make me smile and make sure that I know she loves me just as much as I do her...I feel like the biggest asshole of the year. Just then, I hear a knock at my door. Somebody must be here to give me the award. I get up and walk over, to unlock it.

Right after I turn the lock, the knob turns and the door flies open...its Layla. "We have to go, Now!" She storms into my studio apartment, immediately grabbing the suitcase I keep underneath my bed. A look of horror is on her face. "What? What's wrong?" I ask, confused. "We have to go right now, Aiden!" "Why?" She doesn't answer; she just begins to shovel clothes into my bag. "Layla, tell me what's wrong!?" I go over and try to turn her so that she's facing me, only to have my hand hit away. "DONT ASK QUESTIONS, AIDEN! We have to go, we're not safe." Tears of fear began covering her face. I've never seen her like this before. "Babe, you're scaring me. What happened? Did that guy threaten you?"

"Threaten, isn't exactly the word I would use, baby." Came a voice from behind. A man was walking through my doorway. He stood somewhere in the early six foot range, wearing a black silk suit with a crimson red tie. He looked to be around my age with his hair put back in a pony-tail. His face was painted in a voodoo style. White with black around the eyes and on the tip of his nose and lines going down his lips as if they were sewn shut. He wasn't alone. "I like to think of it more as…giving helpful advice." A group of four casually walked in from behind, all dressed up as if this was some sort of a party. Two of them were women. One was dressed up in a Gothic style dress, with dark blue hair put in pig tails. She was carrying a kitchen knife and had painted her forearms as if she had cut herself. The other was dressed as a slutty nurse who had gotten her throat slit. Her brown hair was messed up and there was a cleaver in her hand.

The other two were men, both dressed as psychotic hillbillies in overalls. One of them was huge, standing taller than the man in the suit, with a lanky build and a machete in his right hand. The other man was about my height of 5'10, wearing fingerless gloves with hatchets in his hands. He wore a hat with fake, messy hair hanging down to his chin, and no shirt beneath his overalls revealed that he was built with a little more stock than me.

"Who are you? What do you want?" I asked, doing my best to keep a firm voice. Layla's face was now a cross of anger and pure terror. "Layla, get behind me." I said as they slowly began walking through my apartment. The hatchet man began going through my stack of DVD's while the others took position on our sides, making sure we had nowhere to run. The voodoo man gave me a dark, wicked smile that immediately sent a chill down my spine. "You must be Aiden. The poet who thinks that he's her boyfriend." My eyes narrowed with anger. "I AM her boyfriend. You must be her stalker." The man laughed at my words. "Stalker!? No, no, no." He ticked his finger left and right before pointing to himself "I. Am her fucking OWNER." His eyes widened as he took a moment to stare me down. He was getting angry. "And you've been touching my property for far too long, Shakespeare. Giving her ideas by whispering things in her ear. Ideas about leaving, as if she has a fucking choice."

"She doesn't belong to anybody, you piece of shit!" Everybody in the room begins to laugh, saying "Oooohhh" as if I was child who had mouthed off to his teacher. "You better be careful, boy. You're liable to get your tongue cut out," said the hillbilly with the machete. "Check this out, boss. The fuck stick has quite the collection of Kung Fu movies." The hatchet man laughed off to the side. "Aiden look out!" Layla warned, but it was too late. I yelled in pain as the goth stabbed me in the leg with her kitchen knife. "NO!" Dropping me to one knee before the big hillbilly ran up and grabbed Layla. "Don't you fucking touch her!" Just as I turn to react, a sharp pain hits my back sending me to the ground. "WHEW! You see that shit!?" The hatchet man screams with joy, before walking over and pulling the blades from my back. I do my best to ignore the pain, my focus stuck on the big hillbilly as he's ripping Layla's clothes from her body. Laughing like this is all some sick and twisted joke. "Damn, boy. Look at those tits!" The hatchet man yells, before going over and throwing her into my bed.

Layla begins screaming my name for help, fueling my body with enough rage and adrenaline to choke down my fear and get back up. "Not so fast, pretty boy" I yell in agonizing pain as another blade enters my back. "You'll spoil the show." The nurse whispers in my ear. Pinning me to the ground with her leg pressed against the back of my neck. "This will stop him from going anywhere." The goth bitch said happily, slicing both my Achilles tendons with her knife. "Haha! Look at the blood!" She yelled in psychotic joy. "STOP! AIDEN!" "Shut the fuck up, Bitch!" The hatchet man ended her screams by slamming a blade through her chest. "DAMN IT! Why do you always have to ruin the fun!?" The big hillbilly said, in anger. "The stupid bitch bit me!" "I don't give a fuck!" The two argued.

"LAYLA!" I watched as she used the rest of her strength, crawling to the edge of her bed. "Please, God no." Tears suddenly began falling down my face as I watched the woman I love, fighting for her every breath with blood coming out of her mouth. Her eyes met mine. "Babe, listen to my voice, ok? Stay with me." Though she can't speak, her eyes tell me that she's listening. "I am so sorry for yelling at you. You are the best thing that has ever come into my life. I want you to know that, ok?" Right now, talking through my tears has become the biggest challenge of my life..."I love you so much, Layla." She reaches out to me, her fingers begging to touch mine one last time. But before they can...the gun fires, and she's taken from me.

"You've touched my property for the last time," the Voodoo man comes into my vision out of the corner of my eye. I can hear the sound of police sirens drawing closer. He motions for the group to leave, before turning his gaze to me. "I hope you know that this is your fault." He walks a little closer. "If you didn't come into her life, she would still be alive." My eyes fill with rage. For the first time in my entire existence, I feel nothing but hatred. I want this man dead. "What is your name?" are my final words. He chuckles. "My name? You can call me…Grim." I watch as he points the Beretta at my head, my hate filled eyes never leaving his. "Goodbye, Shakespeare. And Happy Halloween." I barely catch the sound of the shot...all that follows is darkness...and I'm gone.


End file.
